


Golden Boy

by Hino



Series: A Set of (Emotionally) Cold Coolattas [2]
Category: Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware
Genre: Also Gordon is unsettled but what can he do he's got no gun, Gen, I do love a scary boy, I want to think about powerful and spoopy Tommy Coolatta, Tommy with G-Man Powers what will he do
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:20:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26770555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hino/pseuds/Hino
Summary: Gordon tumbled out of the pipe, landing before Tommy bloody and battered.His hand was gone, his friends had betrayed him, and he was slowly dying.But nothing unsettled him more than the chilling peace that radiated from Tommy and his Briefcase.
Series: A Set of (Emotionally) Cold Coolattas [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1911058
Comments: 8
Kudos: 54





	1. Golden Eyes And Golden Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Usually I'm so good at naming things, but this one really didn't work for me

The forced removal of a limb was painful.

Very painful. There'd been no painkillers, no careful motions, just a somewhat blunt combat knife and some over-excited guards. The garbage compactor had been a nice touch, although they'd thrown him in the wrong half.

But even with all that clouding his mind, and the garbage starting to infect his wound, and the fever breaking out as his body began to shut down from blood loss, Gordon Freeman knew that something was wrong with Tommy.

He'd tumbled out of the pipe leading into the room of radioactive waste, barely managing to land on his feet. His head was spinning, but Tommy's silhouette was something Gordon had come to learn. "Tommy!"

At his name, Tommy turned. He moved slow, peaceful, hands wrapped around the handle of a briefcase. "Hello Mister Freeman," he greeted, content and even, as if nothing had gone wrong at all. "I'm glad you made it here."

Gordon struggled to stand. "You- You alright Tommy? The guards didn't get you, did they? God damn boot boys?"

Tommy shook his head. "No. No, I'm fine." Still so serene in his words. Something looked different in his eyes, like they were glowing, peering past him into something else, or perhaps, into him. But Gordon's head was swimming, which meant he wanted to put no stock into his assumptions right now. "But your hand, Mister Freeman. It's gone now, hm?"

"Y-Yeah." He held up the stump, hand wrapped tightly around it in some attempt to slow the flow of blood. "You uh, you got something for it? It's really- Oh god, they cut it off. Holy shit."

Now the shock was kicking in. Gordon's knee buckled and he struggled to catch himself, but Tommy just watched him, unmoving. "Can you, like, lend me your shoulder? I don't think I can walk properly right now. Everything hurts and God when I get my hands on that Bald Fuck and that Shitstain on Black Mesa's Security, I swear-" 

Tommy stepped forward as Gordon spoke, setting the briefcase down momentarily as he grabbed the bleeding stump, ignoring how it slicked his hands in red. "It's alright, Mister Freeman. I think I can help you. After all, you did spend time helping me. And you'll continue to help me, won't you?"

His stutter was gone, which was one of the more terrifying parts of the conversation. Gordon tried to swallow and failed, mouth dry as the Mesa their facility was based in. "Yes. Yes Tommy I'll help you- I'll help you through anything if you just- If you can help me then I'll pay it back tenfold, I-"

The pain stopped.  
The bleeding stopped.  
The jagged feeling of flesh and bone stopped.

Tommy smiled and withdrew his dirtied hands. "It's alright now, Mister Freeman. It's going to be okay." Still serene, although ominous now with the blood on his hands and coat. Something wasn't sitting right, but right now kicking up a fuss was the last thing Gordon was thinking about. Instead his eyes were trained on the bloody and jagged stump on the end of his arm.

Well, what had once been a bloody and jagged stump. Now the skin was smooth and clean, as if removed with grace in a medical facility and tended to, or perhaps as if there'd never been a hand there at all. "How..." Gordon pulled the limb close, inspecting it, running fingers over the smooth skin. There wasn't a single sign that he'd had a hand, or that it'd been removed. "Tommy, how'd you-"

Anything he'd been planning to say died in his throat. Wide eyed, he stared at Tommy, thoughts vanishing in an instant. Brilliant golden eyes met his own, a grin that felt unnatural and beyond Tommy, filled with an intent that Gordon knew would never reside in that body. "Mister Freeman." Tommy's voice had dropped just a fraction, fingers gripping the handle of his briefcase once again. It sounded familiar, like something he'd encountered before, but it didn't stick, sliding out of his mind like oil on water. "We should continue onwards. We need to find Doctor Coomer and the others."

Gordon blinked for a moment, jaw moving wordlessly. "Uh- Yeah. Yeah, we should- We should find him. And the other two. I'm going to kill them. Bubby and that damn Benry. Can he even die?"

It was more rhetorical than anything, but the way Tommy answered "He can" without any reluctance made Gordon feel uncomfortable. There was something to it, a weight like it was a simple fact one might read out of a book.

Well, Tommy _did_ read books. Perhaps there was one somewhere that talked about Benry.

Despite the prompting that they should go, Tommy didn't move. He simply stood in place, watching Gordon with that unsettling serene grace that'd settled on him. "Uh... Tommy?"

"Yes, Mister Freeman?" Tommy answered, voice even and stutterless.

"Where do we go from here?" Whatever Tommy had done didn't cure the lightheadedness that he was feeling, or the confusion that had followed his assault. "I've... I've never been here before."

Tommy smiled, one hand leaving the handle of the briefcase. "This way, Mister Freeman." He gestured towards the large vat of ominous green liquid that had been bubbling away, emanating a bright glow. Gordon stared at it, blinking.

"In there?" Gordon asked. Tommy simply nodded, taking confident, long strides towards the ladder adorning the side of it.

The part of his brain that said Tommy was acting strange insisted that he stay away.

The part of his brain that refused to be left alone without a gun insisted he stay nearby.

He sighed and found himself climbing the ladder, following Tommy's steps exactly.


	2. Golden Soul and Golden Intents

Navigating the facility while _not_ bleeding out was only slightly more difficult than navigating it pre-injury. Sure, not having a hand made grabbing onto ledges more difficult, but considering there wasn't that wave of dizziness that'd assaulted him as he clambered out of the waste disposal, or that nausea that followed as he'd found Tommy, he felt quite alright.

The thought of Tommy though, that brought Gordon back down. He'd been leading the way, making sure to clear out all kinds of enemies that tried to attack them. Except there'd been no frantic pull of the trigger, no misfires or spray of bullets turning some headcrab into swiss cheese.

No, Tommy pulled the trigger with an ease and finesse that he hadn't possessed before. Just a single bullet that would immediately stop whatever was attacking, and ensure that they'd never get back up again.

"You uh, get some practice in?" Gordon asked, standing just a few steps behind Tommy. "You're a good shot now. Stopped uh, squeezing the trigger?"

Tommy looked back. "I'm practicing good gun discipline, Mister Freeman." He smiled. "We should keep going. We have to find Doctor Coomer."

"Wait, why do we have to find him? He was part of that thing, wasn't he? Sure he wasn't whispering like Bubby and Benry, but he-"

Gordon stopped talking. Tommy was looking at him, face vacant, eyes boring holes into him. "It's the way things go, Mister Freeman. We must find Doctor Coomer."

"S-Sure." Gordon nodded, pulling the stump of his arm close for some kind of comfort. "You know where he is?"

Tommy nodded, now smiling. It was the closest he'd looked to the Old Tommy since they'd met again. "We'll have to go swimming, but it's OSHA approved."

"Yeah. Sure. Let's go swimming."

Gordon was sure this water wasn't actually OSHA approved. It stung at his eyes, filled with grit and chemicals, and the one time he'd opened his mouth in surprise, the water had made his teeth feel like they were full of electricity.

Either way, he was not keen to swim in it again.

Tommy however seemed to glide through it. Gordon thought to compare it to a mermaid or a seal, or perhaps a penguin, but the more he thought about it, the more it seemed as if Tommy wasn't swimming at all. It was like he moved through force of will, simply gliding through the water under sheer thought alone.

He came to a stop and pointed upwards at an opening. Even though he'd been underwater longer than Gordon, he didn't seem to take the chance to get some air, instead watching with eyes that were definitely glowing, illuminating the area like little spotlights.

Gordon didn't say anything aloud, both because of the water, but also the fear that questioning Tommy would get him into more trouble than just letting it slide.

His pondering did make him slow down though, and his chest burned with a need to breathe. Frantically, Gordon kicked his legs, trying to make it over to Tommy. His chest hurt and his eyes hurt and his teeth felt like they were rattling in his jaw but he forced himself to keep moving.

Tommy seemed to notice his plight, even if he offered no expression of surprise. He'd freak out about lesser things, flap his hands in distress as he tried to think of a solution, but now he just stared like one would consider a spider scrambling away from a drain.

A stream of bubbles escaped Gordon's mouth as he tried to reach out for Tommy, desperate for some kind of help. _That_ at least seemed to earn a raised eyebrow and some assistance. Tommy gripped Gordon's hand, pulling him close and pushing him upwards to take a breath. 

Gordon broke the surface, scrambling to grab the edge and breathe. He hacked and coughed, watching with blurry vision as Tommy hauled himself out of the water, seeming dry as a bone.

"Hello, Doctor Coomer. Doctors Coomer." Tommy's words made Gordon turn, wiping at his stinging eyes. It was hard to see clearly, but he could make out several men in white coats, all standing in the room. Their gazes moved from Gordon to Tommy, and on the one standing right beside the ledge he was clinging too, Gordon could swear he saw fear.

"Hello Tommy," greeted the clones all in unison, the same cheer in their voices as the Doctor Coomer that Gordon knew. Their voices all varied in pitch ever so slightly, creating a chorus as they spoke. "Are you still Tommy?"

"I'm Tommy," came the answer from Tommy, adjusting the grip on his briefcase. "Are you going to hurt Mister Freeman?"

The clones all turned to look at Gordon, hundreds of eyes all peering down at him. One of them bent down to inspect his severed hand, frowning.

Only one voice spoke this time, coming from the clone looking at Gordon's hand. "The opening in his suit is gone."

"It's gone," they all said in unison. "Gordon, where did the hole go?"

Still in the water, Gordon looked up at one of the clones. "Tommy fixed it. Look, I don't know what was meant to happen here, like if you were planning to kick the shit outta me, but I'm cold and wet and I'm going to fall asleep soon so if you don't mind speeding this up..."

Tommy smiled. "Doctors Coomer, it would be wise of you to step down. This is a battle you cannot win."

All of the clones began to murmur to eachother, and then, they began to back away. They cowered in the corner, leaving only one Doctor Coomer standing in the center of the room. "Now Tommy, I have to ask you, are you sure about skipping this flag?"

"You have nothing to gain from this," Tommy answered. "Now, please help Mister Freeman." He gestured to the man currently in the water. "Or I will _Ensure_ the continued survival of your clones."

Doctor Coomer flinched. "We could always try again! We can reopen the hole!"

The clones all chimed in. "Hole!"

Tommy laughed, hollow and joyless. He raised the gun, pointing at Doctor Coomer's head. The one they knew. The one that had accompanied them all that time. "No, Doctor Coomer. We will not."

Doctor Coomer tensed, looking to Gordon, then back to Tommy. "You're right," he said, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace. "I'll- There's no point."

"Good." Tommy smiled, moving the gun from Doctor Coomer to his clones, all cowering together. Doctor Coomer quickly moved, pulling Gordon out of the hole and helping him stand up.

"Thanks," Gordon breathed, offering Coomer a smile. Coomer tried to return it, but his smile turned into a pained wince as Tommy fired. A clone cried out, dropping to the floor.

Another shot. Another dead clone.

Together, Gordon and Coomer watched as Tommy shot every single one with a terrifying accuracy.


End file.
